


An Encounter Of Bodies

by Cee5



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Digging, First Meetings, M/M, corpse, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cee5/pseuds/Cee5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran meet for the first time. They are both hiding corpses. It could have been an awkward meeting if it wasn't for Moriarty's nonchalant approach to any situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Encounter Of Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt:](http://theadventuresofholmesandwatson.tumblr.com/post/96962804561/imagineyuorotp-imagine-your-otp-meeting-each)  
> "Imagine your otp meeting each other for the first time, at night, in the woods, while both trying to dispose of their freshly killed corpses."
> 
> This fic was written to [frustratedoctor.](http://frustratedoctor.tumblr.com/) Thanks for motivating me to turn the prompt into a fic, I really had fun writing this! 
> 
> There might be a second chapter, if the smutty mood strikes me in the meantime. :)

Sebastian adjusted the black body bag on his shoulder and carried on, making sure he didn’t trip over any broken branches. It was a moonless night, but he had dispensed the torch, which might get him more in trouble than any fall, considering what he was doing right now. Luckily he had taken care of digging the hole on the ground before, which would save him a considerable amount of time.

He walked steadily, and each step seemed to echo loudly on the deserted forest, the sound of a cricket cutting through the night here and there. The ground underneath his feet was slightly damp, and he made a mental note to ditch his boots in a garbage can somewhere out of town, just in case.

He had a good sense of direction, so it didn’t take him long to reach the spot he had prepared for that night, but there was something else besides the open grave waiting there for him. He could see, as he hid behind a tree, another black body bag thrown into the floor, next to the hole. There was no one in sight, but he treaded carefully.

He placed the dead body he was carrying on the ground, along with the shovel, and then massaged his shoulder, looking at the other strange shape in front of him. He had no idea what to make of it.

“Oh, hello.”

The voice came from his left side, across from the hole, and had a mocking tone to it. Sebastian retrieved his handgun from his belt with a swift movement, and pointed it at the other man.

“Hang on tiger, don’t want any more corpses around here today,” the other man said, raising his palms in front of him in defence, just to drop them by his sides again.

He was shorter than Sebastian, lean and dark, and there was a look of defiance in his face, a glint of madness even. Sebastian was not used to get that reaction when he pointed a gun at someone’s head. Usually there was surrender, fear, pleading, not this shameful display of indifference. Sebastian held tighter to the gun whilst the other man looked at him, and smiled.

“I see we have a logistics problem here,” he said.

He didn’t seem bothered with being caught, didn’t keep his voice down, but spoke with amusement.

Sebastian tightened the grip on his gun and spoke for the first time, “I see no problem at all.”

“No?” the other man inquired, tilting his head to the side, “Well, you see, we have two corpses to dispose of, and only one hole. Seems like a bit of a metaphysical conundrum to me.”

“This is my hole,” Sebastian said, “I dug it.”

“Well, finders keepers,” the other said, and with a nonchalant look he kicked his corpse, which rolled into the dig and fell into it perfectly, “Losers weepers.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell agape as he watched the wrapped dead body settling on the space he had so carefully crafted, and how his threatening gun seemed to have no effect against that stranger, that was now looking at him as amused as ever, eyebrow slightly raised. He loosened up his posture and lowered the gun, but kept it in his hand, just in case.

“Now, that’s better, isn’t it?” the man said, looking at Sebastian with interest, taking a step forward, “There’s no need to be all defensive. Although,” he added, “You do look quite sexy when you’re all terrified.”

Sebastian sneered at his nerve, and frowned, trying to disguise his amusement, “I am not terrified.”

“Maybe not. But you must admit I got you a bit confused there. ‘Oh, look at me with my big gun, and he isn’t even flinching. Is he mad?’”

Sebastian didn’t like to be mocked, but somehow the playful tone didn’t bother him much this time, “You do realise I am still holding my gun, and you are unarmed. I can still easily kill you at my pleasure, if I want to,” he affirmed.

“Then what?” the other responded, “You’d still have one hole, but _three_ corpses now. If anything it would just worsen your situation.”

The shorter man jumped almost childishly over the hole and approached Sebastian calmly. Sebastian raised his gun again, “Don’t be ridiculous,” the other man said, and extended a hand in front of him, “James Moriarty.”

Sebastian took a step back, gun still raised, and ignored the hand.

“Are you playing hard to get?” Moriarty asked, and he seemed genuinely disappointed for a moment, “Listen,” he turned his palms up, in an explanatory gesture, “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t turn this into a profitable business,” he demanded, “I’m good at killing people; you’re good a digging holes.”

“I’m also good at killing people,” Sebastian said with a quick, intent glance at his gun.

“Well, I have no intention to be killed by you tonight, and I already told you that if you do kill me, you’ll have a bigger problem at hand.”

“I thought you had said I am good at digging. That also means I can easily dig your grave as well,” Sebastian teased now.

“Yeah, but what have you to gain from it?”

Sebastian took in his words and lowered his gun. He gauged Moriarty for a second and then extended a reluctant hand to him, “Sebastian Moran.”

Moriarty looked at it for a moment and then gripped it tightly.

“Sebastian,” he repeated, “Sebastian,” he played with the name in his mouth, “Seb,” he decided, and looked at him longingly, licking his lips, a playful smile, “Nice to meet you.”

Sebastian nodded.

“You’ll find,” Moriarty said, letting go of Sebastian’s grasp and turning around, showing his back, vulnerable, “That there is enough room for another corpse there. So maybe if we work as a team we can do better things than if we work alone. Weren’t you taught to share?”

Sebastian took in the words and watched as Moriarty used his feet again to roll the other corpse into the grave, and it fell with a muffled sound over the other body. Then, he looked Sebastian in the eye, “Start covering it up, tiger.”

Sebastian didn’t like to be told what to do. Didn’t like to be addressed in that tone, and yet there was something incredibly seductive in the way Moriarty made it sound. He wasn’t merely demanding, he was… commanding, guiding.

Sebastian got to work and Moriarty leaned against a tree, hands in his pockets, as if he was slightly bored with it all. Sebastian could see him by the corner of his eye, glancing at him as he managed the shovel, lustfully observing his movements, and Sebastian couldn’t tell he didn’t like that. There was some eroticism involving the other man and Sebastian wondered if it had anything to do with the disinterested way he looked death in the eye, and disposed of corpses.

He finished covering the hole, and then he cleaned his hands on his jeans, kicking the ground here and there to make it look more natural. Moriarty was still observing him, and he walked again in Sebastian’s direction, grimacing.

“I might find some use for you,” he said, looking at Sebastian fully.

The tallest man sniggered, looking down at him, “What makes you think I want to work for you?”

Moriarty licked his lips again, so close now that Sebastian could feel his breath against his skin when he whispered in his ear, “Who said anything about working?”

And without another word he stepped back, the same smug expression in his face.

Sebastian stood there, dry throat, heart beating fast against his ribcage, trying to make sense of the effect this stranger had on him.

Moriarty looked back, and frowned, “Come on, tiger,” he said, “Remember that _I_ found you; Finders keepers.”

Sebastian shook his head, astonished with his confidence, barely believing what he was about to do, but there was no use in denying how drawn he felt to James.

He picked up his shovel and followed suit, like a puppy.  No, he corrected, like a _tiger_.


End file.
